Allure of Temptation

6: Allow Me To Worship You

AUDREY

I didn't wait. I ran past Matteo, past the party, and up the stairs, even though it made my feet hurt from the high heels. I pushed open the heavy rooftop door, and the cold air hit me. Up here, the city's glittering noise was silenced, replaced by a quiet that amplified my screaming thoughts.

I sank onto a cold metal bench, welcoming the chill that stung my eyes and burnt my face. I needed the distraction from the truth: my marriage to Dante had crashed years ago. I could continue to lie to myself, but it was obvious. After seven years of loyalty, he treated me like invisible, unwanted furniture.

And now, he had the audacity to sleep with my business acquaintances in public. My stomach sank, and my heart shattered. I couldn't believe that our marriage could come to this. That after giving my all, emotionally and financially, to Dante, he'd treat me like trash like this.

The creak of the door jolted me out of my reverie, and before even looking, I knew it was Matteo. The jump in my pulse confirmed it.

“Audrey?” Matteo’s rough voice cut through the silence. “I knew I’d find you here.”

I didn’t bother to turn around. I didn’t have the energy to mask the ruin of my face. “Go away, Matteo. I'm not in the mood for company.”

He didn’t leave. Instead, he walked around the bench and leaned against the railing in front of me, forcing me to look at him. He was wearing a dark green, custom-tailored suit, the fabric stretching over his chest, and his eyes were dark with a look that made me feel exposed.

“You’re shivering, Audrey,” he said, ignoring my dismissal.

“I’m fine.”

“You’re a terrible liar.” He stepped closer, invading my space until the heat radiating from him began to battle the rooftop chill, and he casually draped his jacket over my shoulders.

I ignored the actual chills I felt when his fingers brushed over my exposed shoulder.

“Dante…” he started slowly, and I had to look away from him because yeah, he officially knows about my shame, “That has been going on for a while, right?”

“It’s none of your business,” I snapped, my voice cracking.

Matteo was rather observant for someone as young as he was, and when I glanced briefly back at him, his expression was all seriousness. No pity. Just… understanding.

And that made it worse.

“I care about you, Audrey, and that makes it my business when something is hurting you.”

“Please don't be ridiculous. We had a thing together last night. It was impulsive, reckless, and stupid. That doesn't give you the right to ‘care’ about me. And like I said earlier, this is none of your business.”

He didn’t say anything immediately. Instead, he sat down beside me, close enough that I could feel the heat radiating off him, close enough that our thighs nearly touched.

“Your husband is an i***t,” he ignored my earlier statements, “he's an i***t for doing this to you and making you think less of yourself. I've noticed for a while now how much has quietly changed between you in public, but I had no idea it was this bad. And I hope you're not blaming yourself for his foolishness.”

His words, his tone, the reassurance in them… They made me want to tear up. They made me blink repeatedly to stop the tears from falling.

“You’re worth more than this,” Matteo said, his voice dropping lower. “You always have been.”

I shook my head, my fingers twisting together in my lap. “Don’t. Don’t do that.”

“Do what? Tell you the truth?” He turned toward me, his knee brushing mine. “You think this is your fault. I can see it in your face. But it’s not. He’s the one who couldn’t keep his d**k in his pants. He’s the one who couldn’t appreciate what he had. He’s a fool for cheating on the most incredible woman I’ve ever known.”

Matteo’s hand gripped my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze. His touch was firm. “You bent over backward for that man. You changed for him. And he still treated you like an afterthought.” His thumb slowly brushed over my bottom lip. “This isn’t on you, Audrey. Stop letting him live in your head.”

I wanted to argue, but the way he looked at me made my throat tighten. Made my pulse quicken, and my p***y clench.

“Why are you even here?” I whispered.

Matteo’s gaze darkened. “Because I care. I’ve watched you fade quietly for years because of him. And I’m done watching.”

My breath hitched. “Matteo—”

“No.” He leaned in, his face inches from mine. “No more excuses. No more letting him make you feel small.” He cupped my cheek. “You’re beautiful, Audrey. Smart. Funny. Fierce. And he never deserved you.”

I should’ve pulled away. Should’ve told him to stop, that this was inappropriate, that I was still married, that I was his mother's friend, but his warm touch grounded me in a way I hadn’t felt in months. Years, maybe. Until last night.

“This isn’t right,” I managed, but my voice lacked conviction. I already sounded raspy. My body was already coming alive from his touch.

“So what is right?” Matteo’s eyes burned into mine. “Dante f*****g every Nick and Harry? You becoming a shadow of your former self? Just let go and let me remind you what it’s like to be wanted.”

My heart raced. “We can’t—”

“We can.” He cut in, moving from the bench and dropping to his knees between my parted legs. “Forget Dante. Forget how he made you feel. You’re everything to me. Right now, in this moment, there is no Dante. There’s just this. And I'm about to give you one of the best orgasms of your life. ”

He reached up, his fingers grazing the waistline of my dress.

“This is insane. Anyone could come up. I’m a mess, Matteo. I’m literally on the verge of tears,” I whispered, even as I instinctively moved my knees further apart.

“Then let it out,” he urged, intense eyes locking onto mine. “Scream. Moan. Do whatever you need to do to get his poison out of your system. But don’t you dare sit there and think you aren’t wanted. Not like I'm going to allow you do that anyway.”

Before I could protest again, he hiked my dress to my waist, pulling me to the cold edge of the metal bench. The air hit my damp center, and I let out a sharp gasp. I wasn’t wearing panties—not with the kind of dress I had on.

“You’re already wet for me,” he gloated, eyes twinkling with mischief. “Even while you’re thinking about him, your body knows who really owns it.”

“You don’t own me,” I panted, my fingers digging into his shoulders.

“Maybe not. But I’m the only one worshiping you, and I'm the one who's about to make you scream.”

He didn’t wait for permission. He dove in.

The first touch of his tongue was a shock—a hot, wet jolt that made my back arch and my head hit the back of the bench. I let out a sound that was half-sob, half-shriek. He was relentless, licking me in agonizingly slow strokes.

“Oh God, Matteo,” I moaned, and my hand instinctively grabbed his hair as I leaned further backwards to give him better access.

His chuckle vibrated against me, sending another jolt of pleasure through my body. “Louder,” he murmured, his breath hot against my wet flesh. “I want to hear you.”

And then his mouth was on me again, his tongue swirling around my c**t before he sucked it between his lips. My hips bucked, a broken cry tearing from my throat. Matteo groaned in response, the sound muffled against me, his fingers digging into my skin as he held me in place.

He was relentless, his deep, slow strokes and hard sucking were accompanied by soft licks. My thighs trembled around his head, my breath coming in ragged gasps.

“Matteo... please,” I gasped, my hands flying to his hair, alternately trying to push him away and pull him closer.

He ignored my confusion, knowing precisely what I needed. His fingers pinched my n*****s through the fabric of my dress, hard enough to make me see stars. Below, his tongue was a weapon, flicking against my c**t with a rhythmic precision that made my vision blur.

The contrast was overwhelming—the freezing wind whipping my hair across my face, the hard, cold metal of the bench under my ass, and the scorching, primal heat of his mouth.

I forgot everything—Dante, Danielle Jones, and all of his other whores, the lies, and the years of feeling discarded. I was just a collection of vibrating nerve endings, responding to the touch of a man who looked at me like I was his entire world.

“That’s it, Audrey,” he murmured against my wet skin, his breath hot and smelling of the wine we'd had earlier. “Take it all. Let me eat every bit of that sadness out of you.”

He raised my legs to hang on his shoulders and then began to suck, a deep, pulling sensation that felt like it was reaching into my very womb. My legs shook uncontrollably, the pointed tip of my heels digging into his back. I was a wreck, a sobbing, moaning mess of a woman, and he didn’t care. He relished it. He pushed my folds aside, his nose buried in my hair, his tongue working with a feverish intensity that pushed me over the edge.

“I’m going to... I’m…”

He pulled back just enough to speak, his lips glistening with my arousal. “Go on,” he commanded, his voice muffled. “Come for me, Audrey. Show me how much you want this.”

The orgasm crashed over me, my back arching off the bench as a broken scream tore from my throat. Matteo didn’t let up, his tongue working me through it, drawing out every last shudder, every gasp. When I finally collapsed back against the metal, my body limp and buzzing, he pressed one last kiss to my inner thigh before sitting back on his heels.

“Look at me,” he whispered.

I opened my eyes, my lashes wet with tears. His face was flushed, his jaw shining with my moisture in the moonlight. I was slumped against the bench, gasping for air, my eyes closed. He reached up, wiping a stray tear from my cheek with a thumb that tasted like me.

“You’re incredible,” he murmured, his thumb brushing my cheek. “Never forget that.”

He stood up, pulling me off the bench and into his arms, his hardness pressing against my stomach through our clothes. The regret would come later—I knew that—but for now, I wanted to bask in the attention.